The Only Thing
by 8belles
Summary: " The only thing between me and that door is an arrow", John said to a stunned Oliver. We all make choices... John Diggle made a very bad one that night. Spoilers for " Home Invasion".
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: If you haven't watched " Home Invasion" 1x20 I think, I thought it was a great Ep, BUT I am SO MAD at John Diggle. Because this is Fan Fic and we can " do as we please " I am getting revenge on John Diggle. I don't own the characters, I just play with them. **** Spoilers ahead if you haven't watched it yet. 8belles**

The Only Thing

The funeral home was so filled with mourners it was hard to breathe. The stifled sound of sobbing was the despondent background music as women blotted their eyes with tissues and men cleared their throats trying to be strong. Moira Queen was draped in black lace and pearls, her hair a sharp blonde contrast to the ebony scarf as she stood near the mahogany coffin surrounded by enough flowers to fill a greenhouse. Her pale hand shook as it rested on the wood. It was as if she was back to the moment she buried him the first time, five years ago, knifing through her heart.

Thea was dressed similarly and seemed much smaller than she really was, weighted down with grief. Roy stood next to her, arm around her shaking shoulders, dressed in a Goodwill special, which was all he could afford. Thea didn't care about his clothes because he was the only thing keeping her sane right now. Oliver was found only to be lost again so soon and that notion threatened to send her over the edge.

Felicity stood to the side near Laurel and her father, her ebullient fashion sense muted in deep forest green. She knew Oliver, who appreciated her riotous color choices in clothes, would not want her to be so somber in black and she wore the color in secret honor of what he accomplished. Standing straight and poised her golden hair down for a change, she watched the mother say goodbye to her son a second time. Her tears didn't flow because she was being strong for Oliver and she was beyond furious at one man: John Diggle. She knew he was here because it was almost like his guilt radiated from him like a beacon in the dark night. His presence was repugnant to her and if she got near him, she knew she'd slap him in the face for what he _did_ and what he _didn't_ do.

" The only thing between me leaving and that door is an arrow." John said hatefully as he turned away from the shell-shocked Oliver. Oliver didn't turn to watch him leave as his partner, bodyguard and friend left for what looked like forever.

Felicity had walked in on the short exchange but it didn't take her long to figure out what had transpired. Oliver wandered the arrow cave as if he'd lost his purpose. His blue eyes glazed and unsettled as if he was battling some inner demons wresting for his mind and soul. Felicity watched him from a distance, not sure how to approach him in such an unsettled state.

As mourners passed the casket after Moira and Thea, Felicity's memory winged unbidden back to the day he had died. Oliver seemed suddenly consumed by the one task of killing Deadshot as if that would bring Diggle back. " I have to try." He said to Felicity in the cave after a rather violent training session.

" Oliver, it's a trap. A death trap! You can't do this alone!" she protested standing in between him and his bow, fire in her blue eyes.

" I have to. I owe it to Dig." Oliver replied in a low growl not meeting her gaze. The tension between them had been growing since John left and it was about to reach a fever pitch.

" You don't _owe_ him anything." she spat back, " He left you to rot because he thought you were choosing Laurel over him." Felicity returned glaring back at him with all her strength.

" But he's a friend." he scowled at her finally meeting her eyes, " I let him down."

" If your loyalty is so easily tested, then you're letting me down too." she hissed back, inches from his face. Panic flooded her mind because she knew if he was in trouble, there was absolutely no way she could help him.

His mouth opened with a thought, then shut with a click. The false mask of expression waved over his face as if she was just a casual acquaintance. Her heart hammered in her chest and her feelings were singed as he shut her out. With a neat step around her, he took his bow and quiver and walked out the door. Felicity whipped around to watch him ascend the stairs and her heart was torn from her chest with him. Hot tears filled her vision as she thought that was the last time she'd see him alive. _Damn you John Diggle_, she cursed, _damn you to hell!_


	2. Chapter 2

The Only Thing ch 2

The call on the radio was weak but Felicity heard it. She had dozed at the computer desk in the arrow cave waiting for Oliver to come home but he never did. The voice was his and she bolted upright in the chair, adrenaline pumping, and all senses on fire. " Felicity…" he called weakly.

"Oliver! Oliver where are you!?" she snapped the ear piece to hers trying to stay calm.

" Felicity…" and his voice faded but the call didn't end. With laser like speed, she quickly pinged his phone and found his location. In a heartbeat, she was in her tiny Cooper speeding her way to her fallen Arrow hating John with her marrow for abandoning Oliver.

With screeching brakes, she halted the car in the alley near downtown, slamming it into park. They had intelligence that Deadshot was hunting some local political leaders in the area and Oliver had gone to intercept him. She saw a crumpled form in the middle of the alley and sprang from her car to go to his side.

Deadshot lay face up, red eye balefully gleaming, several shafts deeply penetrating his chest; there was no return for him this time. Felicity recoiled in disgust and quickly began to search the boxes and refuse scattered about from their fight.

" Felicity." It was a more a whisper than a call but she heard it as if she had supernatural hearing.

" Oliver!" Felicity stumbled towards him as he had fallen propped up against the rough brick wall behind a dumpster. His bow and quiver lay near his nerveless hand and his eyes were closed. Blood saturated his leather jacket and flowed down to his pants. The ground was saturated in sticky red.

At the sound of his name, Oliver's eyes fluttered briefly, she cupped his jaw to raise his face towards her. His hood fell back and he looked at her with the last of his strength, " I'm sorry," he said barely audible.

Hot tears raced down her face, " Oliver, don't go. I'm calling 911."

" I… I'm sorry." he exhaled, " I… I love you." and the sun set over the vigilante's short tenure.

" OLIVER!" Felicity screamed and pounded his shoulders as if she could fight him back to life. "Oliver!" she sobbed into his chest acutely aware of the lack of heartbeat.


	3. Chapter 3

The Only Thing ch 3

It was Felicity's turn to pay her respects. She hated this part of funerals and she would have preferred not to approach the gorgeous container that held the remains of the one man she admired and loved the most in the world.

Inhaling deeply to keep her composure, she touched the wood and it almost felt warm to the touch like it was alive. The casket was closed but she could imagine him inside, the dark suit, long thin black tie, the stubble of his beard and short sandy hair. She could envision his hands clasped together at his waist and a peaceful expression on his face. Leaning on the wood, she pressed her forehead to the casket and felt her knees grow weak. _No. I know he's here and I will not let him see me this way_, she confessed to herself, willing her eyes not to get wet and break down in front of everyone.

The room knew now who was the Vigilante. She all knew Felicity had spent the last few moments of Oliver Queen's life with him and the mourners all fell eerily silent as if they were according her their respect as well. It was as if they all pulled back and gave her her own space with Oliver for one last goodbye. Felicity appreciated their sentiment and rubbed the wood affectionately. Thousands of thoughts poured through her mind but none settled like leaves caught in a wild fall wind. _Fight on, Oliver_, she prayed to herself and stood up from the casket and moved forward, head held high, just like he'd want her to.

John Diggle, who occupied the farthest back seat, was for once in his life truly afraid. Felicity glowed to him like a red-hot poker even if no one else saw it. He knew what happened and the burden was his to bear for the rest of his life. This young man did what he couldn't; avenge the death of his brother. So now Diggle was nothing but a shadow, a coward to no one but himself. The burden almost crushed him and he knew guilt had an avenging angel and it was Felicity Smoak.

He didn't have the nerve to approach the casket or even come remotely toward the family. A few days after Oliver's death, Detective Lance had questioned him about why he had not known about Oliver's vigilantism being that he _was _Oliver's bodyguard. John's blood ran cold and he created some elaborate story that apparently satisfied Detective Lance, even if it made him feel like he was selling his soul to the devil. Going home, he drank heavily that night, just like the night his brother had been killed, hoping alcohol would chase away the demons.

The last of the mourners paid their respects and the casket was carried to the hearse for the private internment. Many filed out to their own waiting cars or lingered briefly. John saw Felicity standing near the door watching the casket being bourn by six of his friends, one of them Tommy Merlyn. Not knowing what possessed him, he approached her, " Felicity."

She spun on her heel like a snake ready to strike, " Get away from me you traitor."

John turned his head as if she had slapped him, " Can we talk?"

" I have nothing to say to you." Felicity growled at him, looking back out the door at the procession of black limousines leaving.

" I know what I did was so wrong. I… I am asking for forgiveness because I can't ask him." Diggle said feeling two inches tall.

Slowly, she turned to look at him with her razor blue eyes cutting his soul to shreds, " John Diggle, I am not the person who can grant that. You have to wait to ask him _yourself._ Now get away from me and never speak to me again."

She stepped out into the bright sunlight setting her bouncing curls alive framed by her dark green dress while John stood alone and cold, forever changed by one choice.

Fin


End file.
